


Each Step a Betrayal

by barbitone



Series: Voltron Fanfiction [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood Duel, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Episode: s0502 Blood Duel, Episode: s0504 Kral Zera, First Time, Kral Zera, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Top Lotor (Voltron), Voltron Art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 14:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbitone/pseuds/barbitone
Summary: When the paladins refuse to listen to reason, Shiro takes things into his own hands.Missing scenes from Blood Duel and Kral Zera, Shiro and Lotor sneaking around together.





	Each Step a Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> I was going for "short and sweet" and mostly achieved it. Thank you to [anonusr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonusr) and [varelsen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/varelsen/pseuds/varelsen) for helping me polish this up and get it ready for all of you~
> 
> Find me on tumblr for art and random discussion of Galra genitals - [barbitone](http://barbitone.tumblr.com/)

~~~Blood Duel 5:2 - Before~~~

“This is a mistake,” Shiro said flatly. He could practically feel Pidge’s glare boring into the back of his head.

“My father is not a mistake-” she protested.

“Our decision is final,” Allura said, holding up her hand to cut Pidge off. “We’re doing this, Shiro. If you can’t accept that, then we will have to do the exchange without you.”

Shiro frowned, but didn’t argue any further. They were playing right into Zarkon’s hands, working on his timeline rather than their own. But maybe if it was one of Shiro’s loved ones on the line he’d be just as blinded by hope. Still, it hurt that they weren’t even willing to consider his concerns, his tactical suggestions, his battle experience. He shoved the hurt away. He was still the leader, and now that they’d decided on a course of action it was up to him to make sure it had a chance at success.

“Alright,” he said. “But I think it’ll be better if I break the news to Lotor alone.”

“If that’s what you feel is best,” Allura agreed easily. She couldn’t quite hide her relief that their confrontation was over. She and Shiro both knew that though he was the head of Voltron she was the true leader and heart of the resistance. If necessary, Allura wouldn’t hesitate to use her authority to override Shiro’s, but it would come at a significant cost to the unity of their team. Although likely not as great of a cost as what Shiro was considering doing. It was a gamble at best, borderline insurrection at worst.

As Shiro turned to walk from the room he couldn’t help but notice the suspicious look on Coran’s face, but the older man made no move to protest. Shiro was grateful for that. Most of all he needed silence, and space to sort out the thoughts racing through his head. A migraine was building behind his eyes. He rubbed at his temples as he left the control room and slowly made his way towards Lotor’s cell.

Even under ordinary circumstances a prisoner trade was so risky it was approaching on madness. A prisoner trade with Zarkon? It should have been unthinkable. Underneath it all, Shiro couldn’t rid himself of the knowledge that what they were planning on doing was wrong on a deeper level. Even if everything went smoothly and they managed to retrieve Sam Holt, they were handing Lotor over to an execution, or worse. Was that really something the Defenders of the Universe could do with a clean conscience? Hand over a man, even a former adversary, that had done so much to help them?

Apparently so - but Shiro could not.

He hesitated a moment before the doors to the hangar where Lotor was being kept in his tiny prison. But Shiro had already made his decision. He couldn’t afford to waste time when he didn’t know how much he had to spare. He took a deep breath and walked inside.

Lotor sprung to his feet as soon as the doors opened, stepping closer to the force field that kept him trapped. Regal even in captivity, he stood tall in his cell, towering over Shiro. He didn’t fidget or pace, just watched with narrowed eyes as Shiro approached. By the tense set of Lotor’s shoulders and jaw, he already knew what Shiro was going to say.

“I take it you’ve made your decision,” he said once Shiro was right in front of him. His hands were clenched into fists and his voice trembled with ill-concealed frustration, and maybe a bit of fear as well.

“Yes,” Shiro said.

Lotor scowled, opened his mouth to make another, no doubt harshly worded, retort. Shiro turned to the console beside his cell, and shut down the force field keeping the Galra prince trapped.

Lotor’s eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed again into suspicion. He tensed, no doubt running the kinds of calculations through his mind that Shiro himself was so familiar with. The question was always the same - can I win this fight, and what will it cost me? Lotor was unarmed while Shiro had his bayard and his Galra arm, but the prince was a well-trained fighter with centuries of experience. He was taller than Shiro by at least half a head, likely faster as well. And most importantly - Lotor knew they planned to hand him over to Zarkon. Shiro saw the moment the decision was made, the slight narrowing of Lotor’s lips, the way he subtly shifted his weight into a loose fighting stance.

“Don’t,” Shiro said.

Lotor didn’t bother pretending that he hadn’t been about to attack, but he did pause. “Do you expect me to go quietly to my doom?”

“No,” Shiro said. “I’m here to give you a choice.” He held up a small access card in his left hand. “This card will give you access to the main hangar, and your ship. You can leave here, go wherever you want. But Zarkon will still be hunting you, and it will only be a matter of time until he finds you.”

“And option number two?”

Shiro paused, suddenly uncertain. He didn’t trust Lotor, but he did trust that they could work together as long as their goals were aligned. And at least for the moment, Shiro believed that to be the case. Zarkon was just as much of a threat to Lotor now as he was to the rest of the Universe, and Shiro didn’t think Lotor would pass up a chance to end Zarkon’s reign. Shiro raised his right arm, and when his bayard materialized he offered it to the fallen Galra prince. Lotor made no move to take it, watching Shiro with suspicion.

“You can play the role of prisoner, do your part in the exchange. And when the time is right- when Zarkon tries to double-cross us, you’ll be in place to strike. You can take your fate into your own hands, however you want to do it.”

“They don’t know you’re offering me this choice, do they?” Lotor asked sharply.

“No,” Shiro responded.

The sides of Lotor’s lips quirked up into an ironic smile. “So if I run, they will come after me. I’ll spend the rest of my life running, from my father and from your paladins. And if I stay, it’ll be to try and help the very people that are so willing to sell my life for- what? A miniscule glimmer of hope that the little one’s father will be returned? It isn’t much of a choice.”

“But better than no choice at all.” The truth was they needed Lotor’s help desperately, even though the other paladins refused to see it. But Shiro couldn’t force Lotor to help them. The best he could do was give the prince the chance to choose to do so on his own.

Lotor stared at him, his gaze piercing as he tried to gauge Shiro’s motives, searching for any hint of deception. Shiro tried not to fidget. If this conversation took too long the paladins would come check on him. They’d discover Lotor free from his bonds and destroy any chance that the fallen prince would willingly help them. But Shiro couldn’t risk rushing Lotor in his decision, either, not when he could tell that the Galra was wavering. It would be so much easier for him to just leave, run and keep running. But for how long? The fact that Lotor had come to them in the first place meant that he had no one, and nowhere else to turn. It wasn’t so unlikely that he’d risk his life in return for a chance at something greater than being a fugitive for the rest of his days.

Shiro tensed as Lotor slowly stepped forward, his long fingers reaching for the bayard. A shudder passed through Shiro as Lotor took it from his hand, another wave of doubt crashing over him. What if he’d misjudged him? What was to stop Lotor from taking the bayard and using it against Shiro, escaping to his ship and leaving them all behind? But the time for doubt had been past as soon as Shiro had taken down the force field.

Lotor frowned as he contemplated the weapon in his hand. It began to glow, forming into a blaster, and then transforming into a long purple blade. The gentle glow of it lit up the contours of his face, making him appear oddly ethereal. He looked up then, meeting Shiro’s eyes, his expression inscrutable. Shiro felt a drop of sweat trickle down his back. If the Galra prince was going to double-cross him, it would be now. The moment was charged with doubt, and hope. Lotor smiled, and the moment was broken. The sword and bayard faded away into nothing, the transfer of ownership complete.

“I won’t forget this, Captain,” Lotor said, his voice solemn. It had been a lifetime since anyone had addressed Shiro that way. It made him ache for simpler times at the Garrison, before the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders. Lotor held out his hand, and Shiro uncertainly clasped his forearm, unsure if the human gesture was repeated within Galra culture. Lotor only nodded in approval, his eyes piercing as he scrutinized Shiro. Shiro could feel the heat of Lotor’s skin even through his armour, the feeling disconcertingly pleasant. He was suddenly ashamed, though he wasn’t sure exactly of what. Was he ashamed to go behind the backs of his team, or was it his team that he was ashamed of? The way they’d so easily chosen to sacrifice a potential ally without even giving him a chance to help them of his own free will?

Shiro let go of Lotor’s arm and suppressed a shiver, already missing the heat.

“If your ruse is to succeed, you’d better shackle me,” Lotor said, offering his wrists.

“It’s our ruse now,” Shiro said as he cuffed him.

“Lead the way,” Lotor said with a small smile.

 

~~~Blood Duel 5:2 - After~~~

 

He couldn’t quite believe his senses. After everything- the centuries of exile, his brief reign, being declared a traitor to the entire Empire - it was all finally over. Zarkon lay dead before him. Lotor staggered back, the enormity of what he’d done crashing over him. He’d killed his father, and with no Haggar around to save him, the Emperor’s demise was final. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, how he should be feeling.

Lotor’s knees were shaking. His left arm and shoulder ached, maybe dislocated. His head was pounding, and all he could hear was a faint ringing in his ears, all he could smell was smoke. It was difficult to breathe, each inhale bringing with it a sharp pain in his side. Maybe he had a cracked rib, or a few. The wind shifted, dark clouds rolled away until the sun was beating down on him, leaving him dazzled. He didn’t know how long he stood over his father’s body, whether he was in shock or some sort of stupor. He came back to himself to the feeling of hands on his shoulders, looked down to see the black paladin staring at him in concern.

“We need to get out of here,” Shiro said, gently taking the black bayard out of Lotor’s slack grip. Lotor looked beyond him to see the Black Lion waiting, crouching with its mouth open to reveal stairs leading into the cockpit. “Zarkon’s fleet is on its way.”

Lotor didn’t fully comprehend the captain’s words, but he nodded all the same. Shiro led him over to the Lion, guiding him gently with his human hand on Lotor’s lower back. Lotor was oddly touched at the gesture, at the thought that anyone had any care for him at all. He had just committed patricide, regicide. Through one simple act of murder he had thrown the entire Galra Empire into chaos, and chaos among the Galra always resulted in death. The enormity of it all crashed down on him all at once, and on his next step his knees buckled. But Shiro was there with an arm around his waist, keeping him from falling.

“Easy,” Shiro murmured, ducking under Lotor’s uninjured arm to support more of his weight.

Lotor hissed in pain, over-taxed muscles protesting at every movement. He shouldn’t have allowed this help, and perhaps if there had been any witnesses to this moment he wouldn’t have. But he and Shiro were alone on the battlefield, the other lions fighting advance Galra ships in the planet’s thin atmosphere, and Lotor was so tired.

“Almost there,” Shiro said when they reached the stairs.

He tried not to gasp with each step as the muscles in his legs spasmed with exertion, but somehow they made it to the cockpit without further incident. There was a second chair behind the pilot’s seat and Lotor dropped into it gratefully, resting his head against the headrest and closing his eyes.

Within seconds they were leaving the planet’s surface and heading back to the castle ship. Lotor wondered if they’d put him back in his cell or if defeating their greatest enemy would at least warrant a room with a bit of privacy. The last moments of the fight replayed in his head over and over, as if on repeat. He’d thought that any love he’d had for his father had withered centuries ago, washed away by relentless abuse, neglect, and resentment. He’d expected to feel some sort of relief, perhaps even happiness at Zarkon’s death, so why did he find himself holding back tears? It was an odd sort of grief, less for his father, and more for himself. What kind of life could he have led, what kind of man could he have been, if he weren’t the Emperor’s son?

Lotor forced himself to take slow deep breaths to try and control himself. It was agony on his ribs, and despite his best efforts he couldn’t seem to stifle the terrible, desolate emptiness he felt, or stop the tears streaming down his face. He didn’t know if Shiro could hear his shuddering gasps, but was grateful for the man’s silence as Lotor slowly calmed himself. He was glad the captain couldn’t see his face. He was a mess of tears and dirt and blood, and through it all he wasn’t even sure if he was happy or upset.

“It’ll be alright,” Shiro said at last. It wasn’t a question but an assertion, a simple statement of fact. Lotor found it to be profoundly comforting. He was glad it was Shiro seeing him in the aftermath of what he’d done, rather than any of the other paladins.

The rest of the trip passed in blessed silence. Everything that happened after they reached the main ship was a blur. Lotor vaguely remembered an argument, a dispassionate medical examination, a trip through the Castle of Lions with Shiro at his side and the princess and her general at his back.

Before he knew it he was alone in his new quarters, handing his clothing and armor over to an Altean sentry droid to be cleaned and repaired, and then washing the dirt and blood off of his skin in a private shower. It was the first indulgence he’d gotten to experience in several movements. As he stood under the hot spray, enjoying the water beating down on his aching body, he felt empty, scrubbed clean at last. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall, listening to the beating of his heart. When he could justify wasting water no longer he regretfully turned it off and left the bathroom, wrapping a plush towel around his waist as he entered the main part of his temporary quarters.

The room was small, though nearly five times as large as his cell had been. It was comfortable enough, with a table and a few chairs, a closet and some cabinets, a wide cot set into a niche in the wall. The silence was so deep that Lotor could hear ringing in his ears. Standing in the middle of the room, nearly nude, he found himself at a complete loss. He wasn’t sure what time it was but it must have been late. The overhead lights were off, the sconces near the door and bed the only light sources in the room. They were dimly glowing a warm orange color meant to simulate a natural sunset and promote better sleep.

Lotor’s blood was singing too loudly for him to be able to sleep any time soon. Normally after a battle he would spend the time with his generals, celebrating if the outcome warranted it, commiserating and nursing their wounds otherwise. Here, now, he was completely alone. He guessed that the paladins were celebrating his father’s murder elsewhere on the ship, but even if he wished to join such celebrations he wasn’t fool enough to think he would be welcome. He could spend some of his restless energy on the training deck, but once again - even if he knew where it was, he doubted he’d be allowed access. Prowling through the ship on his own in the middle of the night would only jeopardize what tenuous trust he’d begun to build with the paladins.

Lotor paced the room like a caged animal, his wet hair dripping to the floor. He ached for wide open spaces, the companionship of his generals, a fast-paced spar or even an all-out brawl. Anything to push back the feeling of walls closing in on him, this new room slowly becoming his coffin. With nothing else to hold his attention, he turned his restless energy onto the room itself. His quarters were entirely bare of anything interesting, save for the closet full of clothes too small for him and a cabinet that held a few glasses and a bottle of pinkish liquid. He opened the bottle, sniffing it experimentally before filling a glass. It smelled similar to Galran wine, though perhaps more potent. It was entirely possible that this was not a liquid meant to be drank, but Lotor took a careful sip regardless. It was definitely some sort of alcohol, and it didn’t taste particularly foul.

Lotor wasn’t the generally the type to drink alone, but perhaps the occasion warranted it. For lack of anything better to do he took a larger swig, savoring the sweet burn sliding down his throat and spreading through his body. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting at the table, lost in his own thoughts as he sipped on the unidentified drink, when he heard the quiet knock.

Lotor’s heart jumped a little with excitement as he stood and went to open the door.

The black paladin stood on the other side, freshly showered and dressed in his civilian clothes. His hair was rumpled and soft, but that was the only soft thing about him. His demeanor was a mirror, reflecting Lotor’s own restlessness back towards him. Shiro’s eyes were bright and nervous, his entire stance taut like a bow string.

“Captain,” Lotor said, his voice dropping into an intimate timbre despite himself. He watched in interest as the paladin’s eyes ran over his bared chest, his face growing red. “Not celebrating with your crew?”

Shiro looked away, uncomfortable either at the question or Lotor’s state of undress. “I wanted to check on you,” he said at last. “If this is a bad time-”

“Not at all,” Lotor interrupted, leaning against the doorframe. “As you can see, I’m not very busy.”

“No,” Shiro said, and swallowed. His eyes moved down over Lotor’s body, but then he caught himself, careful to look at a point just beyond Lotor’s chin. A bloom of warmth uncurled inside Lotor’s chest, spreading through him as he considered another way to work off the remaining adrenaline from the battle. Perhaps that was why the captain was here as well, whether he knew it or not.

Of course the wisest thing to do would be to thank him and send him on his way - anything more could jeopardize Lotor’s standing with the rest of the team. Maybe it was the Altean liquor, or maybe it was the restless energy singing through Lotor’s blood, but he felt like being a little reckless.

“Would you like to come in? Join me for a drink?” he asked.

Shiro paused on the threshold, unsure. No doubt he was on thin ice with his team after what he’d done, and he didn’t want to drive the wedge further. If he were caught spending leisure time with Lotor that surely wouldn’t look very good. And yet, he’d still come to Lotor’s quarters in the dead of the night. For what? To check on him? Perhaps, though Lotor found that doubtful. Now that he was paying attention, the desire in Shiro’s eyes was clear. He’d come to Lotor because he wanted to, because Lotor could give him something the other paladins could not. He was teetering on a knife’s edge, and if Lotor was very careful he could push him over.

“I could use the company,” Lotor said quietly, a delicate persuasion.

It was enough to tip Shiro away from his indecision. “I can stay for one drink,” he said at last. He stepped inside and the door to the room slid closed with a soft hiss. He was tense as he stood in Lotor’s quarters, his human hand twitching slightly.

“Maybe you want to get dressed?” Shiro asked as he watched Lotor fill a glass for him.

Lotor laughed easily. “You'll have to pardon my appearance for the time being. I’m afraid my clothes are off for cleaning, and there’s nothing here in my size.”

He handed the second glass over to Shiro, who sniffed it dubiously before taking a careful sip. Shiro coughed a little at the taste, but nevertheless took another drink. “What is this?” he asked.

“You’ll have to ask our Altean hosts.”

“Hopefully it’s not ten thousand years old,” Shiro said dubiously.

Lotor smiled, leaning his hip against the table. He was gratified to see that Shiro’s hand had stopped twitching, his shoulders were slowly relaxing. He chose his next words carefully, his voice dropping into a low purr. “I never properly thanked you for what you did for me.”

Shiro looked up, startled. Even though the light in the room was dim, Lotor could see his cheeks growing red again. He hadn’t missed the not-so-subtle suggestion in Lotor’s statement.

“Not many would put their trust in me the way you did,” Lotor continued. He was thoroughly enjoying himself now, and he was sure it showed. Shiro was off balance, but in a way that worked to the prince’s favor. Lotor put his hand on the man’s upper arm, a touch intimate enough to bring them closer, but not so intimate as to be alarming. He didn’t think he imagined the shudder that passed through the human’s body. A warm hush settled over the room like a blanket, a charge of possibility crackling through the air.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Lotor said, raising his glass. “To trust.”

After a brief hesitation Shiro raised his own glass, and tapped it gently against Lotor’s. “Trust,” he echoed. They drank deeply. When he was finished, Lotor set his glass on the table with a quiet clink, Shiro following suit soon after. Lotor felt hot all over, excitement coursing through his veins.

“I think I should... leave you to it,” Shiro said after a tense moment of silence. It was more of a question than a statement, and his eyes kept straying to Lotor’s lips. His breathing seemed a little faster than usual, and Lotor understood what he was really looking for was permission to stay. He was only too happy to grant it.

“Don’t go,” he said softly, raising his hand to press against Shiro’s chest over his pounding heart. He waited a beat, giving the paladin a chance to step away or refuse. But as he’d expected, no such refusal was forthcoming. Slowly, he closed his hand into a fist until he was gripping Shiro’s shirt, and then he tugged him a bit closer. The black paladin’s eyes widened but he stepped forward, his lips parting. Lotor could feel the pounding of the human’s heart, his own speeding up to match it. Carefully, still so carefully, he leaned down until he could feel Shiro’s sharp breaths against his lips.

There was no doubt now about what was happening, and still Shiro made no move to back away. Lotor raised his other hand to cradle the back of the man’s neck. Shiro was the one that tilted his face up and pressed his lips against Lotor’s own.

Up until that moment Lotor had still harbored some uncertainty, but no longer. He used his grip on Shiro’s shirt to pull him in between his thighs, and deepened their kiss from something chaste to something slick and heated. He gasped as Shiro wrapped his arms around him, the contrast of human flesh and cold Galra arm against Lotor’s skin made him shiver. He’d seen the violence the captain could inflict with the artificial appendage, and having it wrap so tenderly around his waist was a shocking thrill, like being caressed with the flat edge of a dagger.

Lotor pressed his tongue between Shiro’s lips, and they both moaned when Shiro opened to him, meeting him half way. He tightened his grip in the paladin’s hair, moved his other hand lower to grip the man’s ass. Their torsos were pressed together, and still Lotor wanted to be closer. He pulled away with a gasp to pull Shiro’s shirt up and off. The other man’s pupils were blown with desire, his hair mussed and his cheeks a bright red. His torso was a tapestry of scars, ropy knots of rough flesh marking all the battles that he’d won. Awed, Lotor ran a hand down Shiro’s chest, the man’s skin growing slick with sweat.

Lotor went in for another kiss, moaning again at the feel of Shiro’s naked chest against his own. This was truly the moment of no return, and Lotor let go of his carefully-held self control, letting himself be lost to the physical sensations of the moment. The table was a cold hard edge against the backs of his upper thighs as Shiro pressed forward, slid his hands downwards until they were at Lotor’s waist, his thumbs pressing down into the crease between torso and thigh, rubbing suggestively towards what lay beneath the towel still valiantly hanging off Lotor’s hips.

Breathing heavily now, Lotor took Shiro’s face in both hands, alternating between nipping at his bottom lip and swiping his tongue into the man’s mouth. Lotor was hard beneath his towel, and when Shiro moved to press his hips against Lotor’s own he felt an answering hardness. Kissing quickly became unbearable as Lotor’s desire for more overtook him, and he pushed Shiro away only to surge forward again, claiming his mouth clumsily. They stumbled over to the bed in fits and starts, too busy to pay attention to where they were going.

Finally Lotor felt the edge of the bed against the back of his knees and sat down hard, Shiro still standing before him. The man looked a wreck, sweaty skin nearly glowing in the dim light of the now-red sconces, his hair mussed from vigorous kissing and his lips full and flushed. Lotor let himself drink in the sight of him for a long moment, and then went in to wrestle open the buckles of his trousers.

He hadn’t known entirely what to expect, but was pleased to see that Shiro’s phallus was not unlike his own. The fleshy bags hanging behind it were a bit of a curiosity, but the phallus itself stood straight and hard out of a nest of dark hairs, tip glistening. Not wasting any time, Lotor dove forward, engulfing as much as he could fit into his mouth, relishing the feel of the hot firm flesh against his tongue.

“Ah!” Shiro cried out, hands gripping Lotor’s shoulders in shock and pleasure. Lotor held his hips to steady him as he set a slow rhythm, bobbing up and down. Before long Shiro’s knees were shaking and he was making pained-sounding gasps with every movement Lotor made. Lotor’s own phallus was aching hard and leaking, and he had to pull open his towel with one hand, pressing down on it to try and relieve some of the pressure.

Shiro’s cries were growing louder, his fingers digging into Lotor’s shoulders so hard that it was nearly painful. Lotor eased up a bit, not wanting their encounter to come to a premature end. He pulled back, pressing gentle kisses in the crease where Shiro’s thigh met his groin, against his lower stomach. He dropped his hands to the backs of the man’s knees, pulling lightly to encourage Shiro to straddle him on the bed. Shiro went gladly, nearly collapsing on top of him, his whole body shaking with the exertion of being forced to stay standing. Lotor ran his hands through the man’s hair, pulling his head down for another series of gentle kisses, soothing his hands down the broad planes of Shiro’s back.

Finally he could take no more, and he scooped Shiro up, depositing the man onto the bed beneath him. Shiro moaned at being handled in such a manner, and Lotor filed that away for the future. The captain stared up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, looking simultaneously completely debauched and slightly ridiculous with his trousers pulled down to mid-thigh and his boots still on.

Lotor made quick work of removing his remaining clothes until he was lying completely nude in Lotor’s bed. Lotor’s own towel lay crumpled and long-forgotten on the ground. He took the opportunity of the quiet moment to stroke Shiro’s body, running his hands from his well-muscled thighs to his scarred chest.

“I want to be inside you,” he whispered, his words loud in the hushed room.

Shiro shuddered, and nodded slightly. “Here,” he said, taking Lotor’s hand and pressing it down and back, behind his cock. Lotor smiled as he felt the tight pucker of flesh, and the way that Shiro shuddered again as he rubbed at it. “Just- slowly,” Shiro added after a moment, “and we’ll need something- something slick.”

“Alright,” Lotor said, leaning down to kiss Shiro until he was a moaning mess. “Show me how you touch yourself,” he murmured, pulling back.

He didn’t think it was possible, but Shiro blushed an even brighter red before moving his hand down to stroke slowly at his own cock with a smooth twisting motion. Lotor bit his lip as he watched, sliding his hand to his own phallus and gathering the slick fluid that had been leaking from it, using it to coat his fingers. He hoped it would be enough.

He was careful as he reached back down to that pucker, stroking gently before pushing a finger inside the tight heat. Shiro moaned at the intrusion, his hand faltering over his cock before resuming at a faster pace. Lotor fucked him slowly for a while before adding another finger. Shiro quivered beneath him, brow furrowed and eyes closed in pleasure. His thighs opened further, welcoming Lotor inside.

Lotor smiled, and then pulled Shiro’s hand away from his cock, trapping it against the bed.

Shiro’s eyes flew open, questioning.

“Wait,” Lotor purred, and leaned forward to press a hot open-mouthed kiss against Shiro’s neck. He went back to pumping his fingers in and out steadily, paying close attention to each one of the captain’s moans and gasps. On a whim he curled his fingers upward. His phallus jumped at the way Shiro keened and arched his back, struggling to get closer. He did it again, more carefully now, breathing heavily against Shiro’s neck. His reaction the second time was just as strong, and Lotor knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled back, positioning himself between Shiro’s spread thighs.

“Ready?” he asked, but Shiro was already too fucked-out to muster a coherent answer. Lotor couldn’t stop a predatory smile spreading over his lips, and slowly pushed inside.

Shiro arched his back, his mouth open in a soundless gasp of pleasure as Lotor slid all the way in to the hilt. He had to stop to catch his breath then, the tight heat nearly too much for him. He was startled at the feel of Shiro’s hands on his hips, and looked down to see the paladin staring up at him with barely contained wild need in his eyes.

“Please,” Shiro said, his voice nearly a whimper.

Slowly, Lotor pulled back, only to pump forward again. Shiro moaned, throwing his head back. His thighs were trembling where they were draped over Lotor’s own. Lotor tipped forward, burrowing his face in Shiro’s neck as he started to thrust, slowly at first but quickly gaining speed. Shiro brought his legs up to wrap around Lotor’s lower back, and Lotor cried out at the change in angle. Suddenly he felt like he was pushing in impossibly deep into that heat, every thrust was bliss. Shiro’s hands on his hips encouraged him to go faster, and soon he was moving with abandon, groaning with each thrust.

Shiro shuddered and moaned underneath him, his body tightening as he fell towards his own climax. He slid one hand between them, stroking himself quickly in time to Lotor’s movements. And then he was crying out and arching his back, his whole body spasming in pleasure. It was the feeling of muscle contractions on Lotor’s phallus that sent him over the edge, and he bit down hard on Shiro’s shoulder as his own orgasm took over, pulsing into the paladin’s body. The world faded away into a white heat, and when he came back to full awareness moments later it was to Shiro stroking his hair.

Lotor pulled out slowly before flopping down onto the bed next to Shiro and throwing an arm over his eyes. He waited for his breathing to return to normal, and his body to stop shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm. For once he felt totally content and at peace with the world. He only wished this feeling would last.

“Are you alright?” he asked, turning to his companion.

Bliss and embarrassment were warring over Shiro’s features, clearly the man recovered from his climax faster than Lotor did.

“Yes,” Shiro said at last, an unwelcome formality returning to his voice. “Maybe-” he said, breaking off. “Maybe I should go.”

Lotor turned towards him, examining his face. His brows were drawn down with guilt, no doubt he was worried about what his team would think of him if they ever found out what had happened between them tonight.

“Stay until morning, at least,” Lotor urged gently, raising his hand and pressing it down over Shiro’s chest, fingers spread wide. “If anyone happens to see you leaving my rooms, they’ll just think you were coming to talk to me first thing. They won’t know about this.”

Shiro finally met his eyes then, searching for something in Lotor’s gaze. Evidently he found it, because he relaxed back into bed with a small smile. “Alright,” he said at last.

Lotor smiled in response, and leaned in for a languorous kiss.

“I think maybe I needed that,” Shiro said once it was over, blushing again at his own sincerity.

“Me too,” Lotor assured him. He reached down to fish out his discarded towel to wipe the both of them off before tossing it away again after. He felt settled, his mind clear. Tomorrow he would have work to do, plans to set in motion. For now, he allowed himself to rest.

 

~~~Kral Zera 5:4~~~

 

Shiro fumed as he stalked through the halls, angry at being dismissed once again. The possible reward - Lotor on the Galra throne, the end to a ten-thousand year war - was too great to ignore. But no - it was too dangerous. In his opinion it was far more dangerous to stand by and do nothing while some other blood-thirsty Galra took control of the empire.

He already knew that he wouldn’t be listening to the decision of the team, but that didn’t mean he had to run off half-cocked and get himself caught. He went to his quarters to prepare himself, made sure his armor and weapons were ready. He was antsy; not knowing how much time they had until the Kral Zera was driving him up the wall. His head was pounding, the ache rising and falling with his heartbeat. He ignored it, paced his room as he forced himself to wait until he could be sure everyone had gone to bed. Finally he couldn’t wait any longer, and went to Lotor’s quarters.

He hesitated before knocking, blushing at the thought of what had happened between them the last time he’d come here. He’d left early in the morning while Lotor slept, not wanting to be discovered by the others. The prince had kept a respectful distance after that, which Shiro appreciated and regretted in equal measure. Sometimes he’d catch a heated glance from Lotor, and wonder what would happen if he ever went back to the man’s room before he caught himself, forced his mind to return to the task at hand. He still wasn’t fully sure what he’d been thinking that night, to allow himself to fall into bed with their former prisoner the way he had. All he knew was that he’d wanted- _something_ \- and that in the moment it had been so easy to just give in.

He took a few deep breaths, calming himself, and then knocked. There was no response and Shiro frowned, knocking again. Still nothing. Somehow he doubted that Lotor was a heavy sleeper. Maybe he was angry at being denied, and refusing to come to the door? But that sort of childish behaviour seemed out of character for the potentially several millennia-old prince. Shiro used his clearance to override the lock on the door and was unsurprised to find the room empty. Lotor was already gone.

“Damn,” Shiro hissed, turning on his heel to run to the hangar where they’d been keeping Lotor’s ship. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

Lotor wasn’t supposed to have access to the hangar, but when Shiro arrived he saw the doors standing open, the panel beside them sparking slightly around a small device jammed into the screen. Shiro paused, staring at it. Of course they’d searched the prince when he’d first surrendered to them, but clearly they’d missed this bit of Galra tech. What else had they missed? It was a sobering thought to realize Lotor may have been able to leave his cell any time he wanted. Shiro wasn’t sure what to make of that. Did it make Lotor more trustworthy, for staying locked up? Or was this a sign of treachery - that Lotor had them all dancing on his strings, manipulating them to some inscrutable master plan? Shiro winced as his headache pulsed sharply inside his skull, and raised his hand to rub at his temples. He didn’t have time for doubt, all he could do was hope that Lotor was truly on their side. Hadn’t he proven himself to be trustworthy, over and over again?

Shiro walked into the hangar, careful not to make a sound. He was relieved to see that none of the fighters were missing, including Lotor’s dimensional-comet ship. As he stalked closer, he could hear faint cursing and muffled clangs from that direction. It wasn’t until he was less than ten yards away that he was able to just barely make out Lotor’s silhouette. He was in full armor, his long white hair hidden inside his helmet. The armor didn’t seem to have the familiar orange and blue accents. Instead it was a rippling dark shade throughout, blending into the surroundings unnaturally well. It was probably equipped with some kind of camouflage tech, but it wasn’t perfectly effective at close range. Shiro could make out a bit of what Lotor was doing, though periodically it was as though he faded completely out of sight, only to reappear as a distortion of the shadows around him. The prince was struggling with some kind of metal cap covering the engine of his ship. Coran or Hunk must have taken extra security precautions to make sure Lotor’s ship was grounded. Shiro sent them a quick mental thank you - if it wasn’t for them, Lotor would have already been on his way to the Kral Zera with zero back up and a high likelihood of getting himself killed.

“Lotor,” Shiro said quietly, stepping out of the shadows towards him. He squinted into the darkness, struggling to make out the other man’s silhouette. A hush fell over the hangar, and if Shiro didn’t know better he would have thought he was completely alone. “Lotor?” he tried again.

A faint footstep behind him was his only warning before he felt one of Lotor’s arms curl around his neck, the other trapping Shiro’s left arm at the elbow, pushing it against his back. Shiro gasped in surprise, or tried to. He couldn’t breathe, and his left shoulder burned at being pulled backwards at an unnatural angle. Instinct took over, and Shiro activated his Galra arm, striking backwards blindly.

Lotor grunted, his grip loosening enough for Shiro to break free. He barely had time to catch his breath before Lotor was lunging at him once again. He fought defensively, parrying Lotor’s flurry of kicks and punches, the camouflaging in his armor making him seem like little more than a blur in the darkness. He was so fast Shiro could barely keep up, much less spare the breath it would take to ask him what the hell he was doing. A wave of fear washed over Shiro, like icy needles prickling down his back and over his whole body. Had Lotor turned on them? It didn’t make sense, after everything Lotor had done to help them, after killing Zarkon. But nevertheless - the Galra wasn’t pulling his punches as he tirelessly came at Shiro.

Lotor ducked left, leaving an opening at his side. Shiro moved forward to take advantage, only to realize it had been a feint. Quick as a snake, Lotor spun, grabbing Shiro’s arm and yanking him forward. He used Shiro’s momentum to flip him to the ground, twisting so Shiro’s Galra arm was pinned under his own body, making sure Shiro wouldn’t be able to activate it without hurting himself. He pushed his forearm into Shiro’s neck, just hard enough to make a point without actually choking him.

Shiro stared at Lotor, looming over him. He could just-barely make out Lotor’s features behind his darkened visor. He watched the clouds of condensation form and dissipate in the lower half of the helmet with each one of Lotor’s panting breaths. They stared at each other, wide-eyed and uncertain. “I don’t wish to harm you,” Lotor said at last, his voice sounding more like a promise than a threat. “But I won’t let you stop me. I must go to the Kral Zera - I must try and save my people.”

The statement was filled with such sincerity that Shiro smiled, helplessly pleased. At the back of his mind he’d been worried that Lotor was about to double-cross them in some terrible way, but he was only doing what he’d been saying all along - trying to build a brighter future for the Galra empire. Shiro let his muscles grow slack, and chuckled quietly. Lotor pulled back a bit in surprise, and Shiro took that moment to surge forward. Using the unnatural strength of his Galra arm as leverage, he took advantage of Lotor’s momentary confusion to flip them over until he was the one pinning the prince to the floor. Lotor tensed but stayed motionless beneath him, curious as to what he would do next.

“I came down here to offer you a ride,” Shiro said, still smiling. “Arriving in the black lion might have a bit more of an impact than flying in on a fighter-class ship.”

Lotor’s eyes widened, and then he slowly relaxed into Shiro’s grip. “I thought perhaps-” he started quitely. “But when you didn’t come to me, I feared you were on their side after all.”

Shiro pulled back, letting go of his grip on Lotor. The prince didn’t move to attack, and Shiro rolled off him before standing.

“I wasn’t going to let you go without backup,” Shiro said, “but I thought running off to find you right after the discussion on the bridge would look a little suspicious.” He offered his hand to Lotor, who reached towards him without hesitation, clasping him by the forearm. Shiro tugged, helping the man to his feet. Lotor didn’t immediately let go, just tightened his grip briefly in a friendly squeeze, and then pulled Shiro closer. He tilted his face down and brought his other hand to cradle the back of Shiro’s head, pulling their foreheads together until their helmets touched with a soft tap. The moment felt solemn, strangely intimate. Shiro wondered if the gesture meant something more to the Galra, but breaking the silence between them felt somehow unseemly, like swearing in church.

“We’d better go,” Lotor said quietly, pulling away at last.

Shiro nodded, stepping back. “Let’s go,” he said with a grin, and took Lotor’s hand.

 

~fin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The image was posted on tumblr [here](http://barbitone.tumblr.com/post/177039500980/ko-fi-society6-commission-prices-vary-ask)\- please reblog, don't repost!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [barbitone](http://barbitone.tumblr.com/) and pillowfort also at [barbitone](https://www.pillowfort.io/barbitone)


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